Playing House
by BonnieD
Summary: Sequel to


Title: PLAYING HOUSE (1/1) by Bonnie  
  
Author: Bonnie  
  
Email: bondav40@yahoo.com  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Summary: Sequel to "Interception". Buffy and Spike are happily keeping house until an old friend with a new lease on life shows up.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.  
  
  
  
"God, Spike, you do such a good job around here. I should give you a raise. No, better. I should get you a French maid uniform to wear around the house."  
  
"Lacy pinafore?"  
  
"Anything you want," Buffy said generously.  
  
"You buy it, I'll wear it," Spike drawled. "Whatever turns you on, baby." He resumed scouring the kitchen sink.  
  
Buffy smiled at the sight of him in yellow rubber gloves scrubbing away. What had made her think that having him live with her and Dawn was going to be trouble? Since he had moved in everything in the household ran like clockwork. Instead of pulling crumpled clothes from the dryer and ironing them at the last minute, she always found every stitch of her wardrobe washed, pressed, folded or hung with meticulous care. The days of nuking leftover Doublemeat Palace specials were over. Instead, she came home every night from her new job at the Fitness Center, where she taught some aerobics and tae kwon do, to a house filled with the rich aroma of some new tempting creation. And in addition to being a culinary genius, Spike had proved to be an impeccable housekeeper. Home hadn't felt so homey since her mom had died.  
  
Yet, with all his housewifely arts, her vampire lover still hadn't lost his edge. When they were patrolling at night, it always gave her a thrill to watch his catlike grace in battle. Morphed into demon face, he would roar like a beast and descend on the enemy in a whirling fury. Almost invariably the fight would be followed by a wild love-making session in a crypt or against a wall, under a tree, behind a dumpster, down a ravine....or any other vaguely secluded spot they could find.  
  
At home again, they would contentedly settle in bed – sometimes making love again, sometimes not. Buffy would drift off, tired from her long work day, and sometimes he would hold her the night through, but other times, restless, he would kiss her then be off about his own business. She had accepted that he was a creature of the night, and she never fussed about his comings and goings. He was always in by the time the sun rose, to roust Dawn out of bed and give both his girls a proper breakfast before sending them off to their respective days.  
  
Yes, the livin' was easy.  
  
Buffy yawned and stretched luxuriously in her kitchen chair, then leaned both elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands. Eyes riveted on Spike's fine ass in tight black pants, she pondered the possibility of a quickie right here in the kitchen, but dismissed it when she heard Dawn slamming around the living room, singing at the top of her voice. Maybe later. Actually – positively later. And, if not in the kitchen, perhaps they could at least use some kitchen products, like whipped cream and produce.....hm. Her eyes glazed over.  
  
"So what's on for tonight, luv? Spike pulled off the gloves with a snap, hung the dishtowel to dry, then came to stand behind her and massage her shoulders. He dropped a polite kiss on top of her head, then changed his mind and burrowed his face into the mass of her hair, growling with satisfaction when he reached her neck and could nip and lick the tender flesh.  
  
It tickled, and Buffy laughed as she wiggled away and stood to face him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a nice, long kiss. As the kiss deepened and threatened to evolve into something much more time- consuming, she pushed her hand against his chest and held him at arm's length.  
  
"Bowling first. Sex later."  
  
"Bowling?"  
  
"Yep. Told Dawn we'd take her. We'll meet the others there."  
  
"No patrolling, tonight?"  
  
"We've earned a night off. The ugly nasties will just have to run amok on their own time. This is family night!"  
  
Spike smiled at the word 'family,' and gave Buffy a fierce, possessive hug. "When was the last time I told you 'I love you'?"  
  
"When I got home from work about two hours ago, but you can say it again."  
  
He didn't say it, but showed it with a gentle, lingering kiss. His lips brushed hers and tongue gently invaded and explored her mouth, so intimately familiar now after two months of being together.  
  
"Are you two ever coming?" Dawn called. "We're gonna be late. Spike, where's my blue jacket?"  
  
The couple in the kitchen drew apart reluctantly.  
  
"In the laundry room soaking where you left it two days ago," he called back, never removing his gaze from Buffy. His eyes said, "Later," as he turned and led her out to the living room.  
  
"Soaking?!! Didn't you wash it for me?"  
  
"You said you were going to work on the stain yourself. I assumed you meant it."  
  
"Arrgh! Oh, never mind. I'll wear something else," Dawn flounced off to hunt up a sweater, and soon the three were on their way to the alley.  
  
The blare of music and crash of pins deafened their ears as they entered the building. Across the room, Willow waved them over. Xander and Anya had also arrived and were checking out bowling shoes.  
  
"Tara couldn't come. Class tonight," Willow explained, when they reached her table. "She wanted to, though!" she added, happily. The Wiccan was unfailingly grateful her loved one had given her another chance and some time to get over her magic addiction.  
  
"I'll be your partner, Wil," Dawn said. "We'll burn'em all."  
  
"So the idea is to knock those little white things down with the big ball?" Spike reiterated for the sixth time since Buffy had begun to explain the game to him.  
  
"Yes!" she snapped. "It's a pretty basic concept, Spike."  
  
"All right. Just checkin'. Don't get your knickers in a twist."  
  
"Come on. We have to get shoes," she said, tugging on his arm.  
  
"I've got shoes." He pointed.  
  
"Bowling shoes are different. They give you traction and don't scuff up the lanes." Dawn explained.  
  
Spike took a look around the alley at everyone's shoes and shook his head. "No. I don't think I will," he said emphatically. "Not my style."  
  
"You have to!" Buffy protested.  
  
"Um, they don't let you play without'em," Willow agreed.  
  
"We'll see," Spike said and strolled over to pick out a ball.  
  
Buffy gave up and she and Dawn went to get shoes and balls.  
  
After everyone had gotten their equipment and snacks, they settled down to play. Xander and Spike, who still had a lot of animosity toward each other, stayed as far apart as they could, never interacting if at all possible. Their uneasy truce was buried under the chattering of all the girls, who paid no attention to the tension between them anymore.  
  
When it was Spike's turn to bowl, Willow, the expert, gave him all sorts of last minute instructions about stance, and pull back and release, which he absorbed with a frown of concentration. He then strutted up to the lane and shot a beautiful, arrow-straight roll that exploded all ten pins. He turned with a cocky grin, "Good advice there, Red." and Buffy knew they'd been had.  
  
"How'd you learn to bowl?" she asked as he sat down next to her, beer in hand.  
  
"I've been around a long time, pet. I have many, MANY hidden talents," he said suggestively, slipping his hand under her shirt to caress her lower back, and sneak down into the top of her jeans. "And I have perfect aim. You know that."  
  
She smiled at his cheekiness and felt a shiver go up her spine at his exploring fingers.  
  
"Where are the gutter thingies?" Anya said as she hefted her bright pink ball in both hands and wandered up to the lane. "Xander, you know I can't hit the pins without them."  
  
"An, not everyone wants to use the bumpers, and we can't put them in and out again every time it's your turn."  
  
"Why not? I'm a paying customer. I want bumpers."  
  
Buffy settled back against her new boyfriend, and watched her loved ones carry on feeling more content than she had ever thought possible. Xander and Anya managed to spin out the bumper debate for several minutes, but no one seemed to mind since Dawn was sharing school gossip with Willow, and Spike was busily trying to work his hand further down Buffy's rear, while whispering what he'd like to do to her when they got home.  
  
They played only a couple of games since it was a school night for Dawn and everyone else had to rise for work in the morning. Willow was the high scorer of the night, but the Spuffy team with their unerring aim won both games.  
  
"Well, they're both superhuman. It's not fair," Dawn whined to her partner as they all got ready to go. "And look at the scuff marks Spike left all over the floor. How can he always get away with stuff no one else can?"  
  
"Sorry, Bit. I'm a dangerous character and everyone can see it. Your human rules don't apply to me," he teased.  
  
"Oh, please. Get over yourself." Dawn snorted.  
  
"Bye guys. It's been fun." Willow gave hugs all around. She had a new apartment near campus, which she didn't share with Tara....yet.  
  
"We'll drop you off, Wil," Xander said. He and Anya grabbed their jackets and said their goodbyes, too.  
  
Dawn linked arms with Buffy and Spike, and chattered at them as they walked home through a beautiful, star-filled night.  
  
Later, entwined together in their bed, the vampire and the Slayer rested after an intense bout of lovemaking. Spike could feel the deep rise and fall of Buffy's breast against his side, her warm breath puffing across his chest and knew she had drifted off to sleep, but he was wide awake. Anxiety, a new emotion, washed over him in waves. - Things were too perfect. SHE was too perfect. It couldn't last. Something bad had to happen. He didn't deserve this. He was unworthy. What would come along and rob him of his new family? – Thoughts chased through his brain, faster and faster, leaving him upset and shaken.  
  
Anger at his inability to simply accept his good fortune finally forced him to action. He slid out from under Buffy's arm, dressed, and set off into the night to find a little demon ass to kick. He had found there was nothing like a good healthy dose of violence to calm his fears and give him a good day's sleep.  
  
***************  
  
Later in the week Buffy had a half day at work and spent most of the afternoon running errands around town. She arrived home with just a few hours to spare before Dawn could be expected from school and ready for a little afternoon delight with Spike. It would be a relief to be as noisy as they wanted for once!  
  
She entered the dim house, blinds were always drawn now, to find her beautiful blond lover sacked out on the couch. He was deep in a sleep cycle and didn't hear her set down her purse, shed her jacket, or approach him and crouch down on the floor at his side. She stroked her hand down the side of his face, feeling the ridge of cheekbone and the hollow beneath it. He stirred and murmured something, and Buffy smiled and began to play.  
  
Both her hands crept under his T-shirt, feathering lightly over his strong stomach muscles and enjoying the way they twitched in response to her touch. She gently tweaked his nipples and he shifted again in his sleep – moving now toward wakefulness. It wasn't until she undid the button of his jeans and began to explore the world behind his zipper, that his eyelids fluttered open.  
  
"Hey," he rasped sleepily. "Who told you you could play with that?"  
  
"Want me to put it back?" she asked, innocently.  
  
"Naw. Just don't break it," he cautioned, then gasped as her hot mouth suddenly descended on his cool member. "Christ, you're like an oven!" he complained, but grabbed her head and urged her on. Buffy enjoyed the power she held over him, guiding him toward ecstasy, then withholding it while he calmed again. But finally, he had enough of her games and pulled her on top of him for a bone-crushing embrace and hard, lingering kiss.  
  
Spike sat up, stripped of his shirt, and flipped her onto her back, straddling her as best he could on the narrow couch. He sat above her, just watching her lovely face for a minute, while she waited expectantly for his next move. He didn't disappoint, but moved in to rain delicate kisses down the column of her throat and onto the tops of her breasts. Impatiently unbuttoning her blouse, his attentions were interrupted by the doorbell. The vampire growled in annoyance, and continued his loving assault.  
  
The bell rang insistently, destroying the time-suspended air of their afternoon.  
  
"Just ignore it," Spike protested, as Buffy tried to wriggle out from under him. "They'll go away." He pinned her arms over her head and went in for another round of kisses.  
  
"Might. Be. Important." Buffy mumbled every time she could snatch air. "Keeps. Ringing." With a Herculean effort she forced herself to push Spike off, began buttoning her shirt, and trotted to the door. She looked back over her shoulder to see him stretched out, resting on one arm, frowning and pouting. A smile blossomed on her face, and she opened the door, grinning like an idiot.  
  
The figure on her front porch was tall, dark, and..... "Angel?!" Shock wiped the smile from her lips. "You're....here." She stared at him, trying to figure out what else was wrong with this picture. Suddenly it came to her. "And in...DAYLIGHT."  
  
Spike, listening from the couch, felt his stomach sink as he swung to a sitting position. "Oh bloody hell. Fuck me sideways."  
  
"Buffy." Angel's voice caressed her name as his eyes did her face. Seconds passed and she continued to stare at him, transfixed. "Can I come in? I'll explain everything."  
  
"Um, sure. Wait. No." She remembered Spike in semi-nude repose on the couch behind her. "Well. I....Just give me a minute." She shut the door in Angel's face and leaned against it.  
  
"Spike."  
  
"I know. Go hide somewhere."  
  
"No! That's not what I......Well, maybe. For now. Until I find out what's going on and have a chance to explain about...us."  
  
Spike remained poker-faced as he grabbed up his shirt and stalked off to the kitchen.  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, ran a hand through her hair, and opened the door again, to find a puzzled looking Angel. "Is this a bad time?" he asked. "Are you...are you with someone."  
  
She ignored the question and pulled him inside. "What.....? How....?" She gestured at the sunny day.  
  
In answer he took her hand and placed it on his chest. Thump-thump, Thump- thump. The rhythm she had once prayed for and never expected to feel there beat beneath her palm. She gasped and put her other hand up to touch the warm skin of his face, pulsing with life. Her wide green eyes met his serious brown ones. He nodded.  
  
"Oh my god," she whispered, turning pale. "How did this happen? When?"  
  
"It's a long, involved story. Do you have time?" Angel looked at her uncertainly, sensing her nervousness. "Should I meet you somewhere, later?"  
  
"No. It's fine," Buffy pasted a smile back on her face, and led her former lover to a chair, then plopped down on the couch, still reeling from the shock of feeling his pulse. "Tell me!" She thought of poor Spike hiding out in the kitchen and interrupted Angel before he could begin. "Can I get you a drink first, though?" Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up and left the room.  
  
Spike was peering in the fridge, poking around in the vegetable drawer when she entered the kitchen. He pulled out a bag of carrots and studiously read the label, glancing up nonchalantly at her.  
  
"So, what does old grandpappy want? And why's he travelin' by daylight?"  
  
Buffy went to the cupboard for a pair of glasses then turned to face him, uncertain how to break the shattering news. She opted for bluntness.  
  
"Spike, Angel is human."  
  
Silence.  
  
"At least his heart's pumping blood and he's breathing. So, yeah, I guess he's human."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Buffy asked.  
  
Spike looked back down at the bag of carrots. "Better go talk to him, then. Find out what happened," he said, calmly. He put down the vegetables, plucked the glasses from her hands and filled them with ice and water from the fridge, then handed them back. She looked at his blank face with concern, then headed back into the living room.  
  
Angel was sitting nervously on the edge of a chair. He smiled tentatively when she entered the room. "I should've called first. I knew I should, but I didn't know what to say."  
  
"It's fine." Buffy handed him a glass, then stood awkwardly before him. "So, what....happened? How did you get......like this?"  
  
"I'm still not really sure. There was a prophecy about a vampire with a soul. Something Wesley found in an ancient scroll. It was very vague, but it appeared to indicate a possibility for redemption."  
  
"And how long have you known about that!"  
  
"Awhile now. I thought about calling and telling you, but it was so uncertain and then all hell broke loose and kind of drove it out of my mind. There wasn't time and it didn't seem to matter much - it was such a long shot."  
  
Buffy nodded understandingly. There were plenty of things that had happened to her over the past few years which she no longer shared with Angel, and one of them was in her kitchen right now.  
  
"So then, the other day..." he continued. "...it was just another fight, another evil to destroy........nothing apocalyptic.....nothing world shaking, and I got shot.....again. There was a little girl in the alley. This guy had taken her. Just a human guy. I told her to run home, then swung back around to hit him when he shot me. I passed out. He must have run away.  
  
When I woke up, I was laying on my side in the alley, in a pool of blood. I knew right away something was different. Everything seemed....dimmer.....not as sharp. All my senses were dulled. And the blood was still oozing out of my shoulder. It should have been healing already, but it just kept pumping out. That's when I realized that strange muffled thumping sound I could hear through the skin of my wrist was a heartbeat. And the horrible pain in my chest was from breathing." Angel smiled. "I'll tell you, in those first few hours it really seemed more like a curse than a blessing. It hurt so much. Then I had to drag myself up and get to a hospital. What a nightmare.  
  
I don't know what was so special about that particular incident or if it was cumulative and I finally met some kind of mystical quota.....but that's the story. That's what happened."  
  
Buffy's eyes were wet with tears at his emotional tale and at the irony that this miracle should occur now instead of when she had desperately prayed to God for it every day.  
  
"Then I healed up and came here to see you," Angel finished his story.  
  
"It's unbelievable," she whispered. "I'm so happy for you, I can't think what to say."  
  
'Say you still love me,' Angel thought, but bit back the words. Instead he offered a tentative, "I've missed you, Buffy." while gazing soulfully at her with his puppy dog eyes.  
  
"And I've missed you," she responded automatically, adding to herself, 'But not so much lately.' Her eyes slid away from his and she anxiously played with the rings on her hand.  
  
"Do you have something to tell me," he asked, gently.  
  
"Well.....I kinda have some news too," she began. "Not like yours – can't top suddenly becoming human – but, uh, things are different here now. When you asked if someone was here.....well, someone is. I live with him now. As a matter of fact, he's holed up in the kitchen waiting for me to tell you about it." Buffy smiled and shrugged nervously.  
  
"Oh." Angel nodded in understanding while internally a wave of disappointment and denial broke over him. He had not really expected that things were the same. Indeed, his own life had changed in many ways since he left Sunnydale, but when he had awakened, alive and breathing for the first time in over 200 years, his first impulse had still been to share it with Buffy. It hurt that she wasn't the same adoring young girl he had known. Somehow he had expected her to remain unchanged, encased in amber.  
  
Buffy continued, increasingly uncomfortable, "And this....person...is someone you know.......very well."  
  
He remained silent but looked at her inquiringly. He had assumed it was that Finn guy come back again. Her eyes shifted away and she swallowed. 'How bad could this be?' he wondered. Then it clicked.  
  
"Xander?" he asked. "Is it....?"  
  
"No!" Buffy, unexpectedly, snorted with laughter. "I mean, no! Definitely not Xander."  
  
Angel was becoming slightly annoyed at this guessing game. Who could be such a bad choice as to make her this nervous? Suddenly it clicked again. The Watcher! Oh God, no, not Giles!  
  
"Buffy, you know you can tell me anything and it won't shock me," Angel said gently, reaching for her fidgeting hands. "We're friends no matter what."  
  
She looked down into his worried brown eyes and threw caution to the wind. What the hell, it wasn't going to get any better the longer she drew it out.  
  
"Angel, I've been seeing....I mean, Spike is my.....boyfriend. And he's been living here with me for two months now. I guess you and I haven't stayed in touch very well lately."  
  
Angel felt a curious ringing in his ears and black shadows seemed to come and go in his vision. He couldn't seem to draw a decent breath either, and the room receded around him. The joys of inhabiting a human body just never ceased!  
  
"Are you okay?" He dimly heard Buffy's voice through the high-pitched ringing, and felt her press the glass of water to his lips. He gulped reflexively and choked, spraying water everywhere. She slammed him on the back, forgetting to hold back on the Slayer strength, and practically knocked him off the chair. "Sorry!" she moaned, fanning him with a magazine, "But you looked like you were going to faint there for a second."  
  
"I'm fine," he managed to croak, holding up a hand in a warding off gesture. "Just, stop helping, please."  
  
She backed off, but continued to watch him with concern. He wiped at his dry mouth, took several shaky breaths, and finally forced himself to meet her eyes.  
  
"How did this come about?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Well..." Buffy began, but was interrupted by the crash of the kitchen door. Spike emerged with a snack tray in one hand and a six-pack of Coors in the other.  
  
"Refreshments?" he sang out blithely, setting the tray and beers down on the coffee table by the couch. He stood and folded his arms, piercing his sire with a stare. "And how are you, Peaches? Heard you got yourself a brand new life. See, I knew if you did enough good deeds you'd earn that merit badge."  
  
Angel rose, returning the stare and beating Spike at the game, forcing him to look away. When he spoke, his voice knocked the room temperature down to about 30 below.  
  
"What are you playing at, Spike?" he demanded.  
  
"Don't know what you're talking about," his childe returned, sulkily.  
  
"You have no business being here. You know this is no good," Angel said with authority. "Not for her and not even for you."  
  
"Look, you bloody poof. You had your chance with her and we all saw where that led. Now it's my turn. Just stay out of my way."  
  
"Whoa! Hold on. Just a minute here," Buffy stepped forward into the testosterone-charged field between the two. "Hello-o, I'm here. Remember me? The Slayer? I say who I'm with, and when, and where! Let's take it down a notch." She touched Spike on the arm and looked pleadingly up at him. He gave a curt nod and retreated to lounge against the kitchen doorframe, arms still crossed defensively. Buffy turned and gave Angel the same imploring look and he dropped obediently back into the chair.  
  
"Okay," the girl puffed out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair. "I'll admit, we have a kind of....tense....situation here, but I'm sure we can ALL (here she gave Spike a pointed glare) handle it like adults. You two have over 300 years between the pair of you. I would certainly hope you could be a little mature."  
  
"Now, Spike," she continued. "I have a lot to talk about with Angel, and I don't want to have to worry about you going into some kind of jealous rage. We can't have a discussion with you lurking in the next room, so we're going out somewhere. Could you please be here for Dawn?" She walked over to him, resting her hands lightly on his folded arms again, and once more treated him to her trusting gaze. "And please be patient," she whispered. "It'll all work out."  
  
"Will it?" he quirked a brow, questioningly, then acquiesced with a sigh. "All right."  
  
She turned to Angel. "And you….. I don't want to hear one comment from you about my choices. This is my life, and you're not my dad. Is that clear?" Angel nodded. "Let's go then." Buffy grabbed her jacket and the pair headed out the door, leaving Spike feeling bitter but vindicated.  
  
"Knew it, didn't I? I KNEW something bad was coming since the beginning, and here it is. Right on schedule." He turned to the kitchen to brood, knock back a couple beers, and fix Dawn a meal.  
  
*********************  
  
Angel and Buffy walked side by side under the shifting shadows and sunlight of the trees in the park. As she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, Buffy remembered how fervently she had once wished to be able to walk this way with him – in the bright light of day. The sun revealed highlights in his hair, and lightened the brown of his eyes. His skin was still very pale she noticed, and suddenly had a mental image of him lying on a beach trying to tan. An unexpected giggle burst from her lips.  
  
"What?" he asked, smiling at her outburst. "Do I look funny?"  
  
"Mm, just a little out-of-place," she answered truthfully. "I am so happy for you, Angel." She added sincerely. "You deserved this so much."  
  
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'm not sure I could ever 'pay my debt' for everything I've done. But I'm not turning down the gift." He chuckled.  
  
Buffy slipped her arm through his and they walked companionably in silence. She marveled at the feel of warmth even through the long sleeve of his shirt. It truly was a miracle.  
  
After awhile he broached the subject that lay under this calm surface like an iceberg.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"Hm."  
  
"I know I promised not to lecture, but I have to ask…What are you doing with Spike?"  
  
"Living together," she said simply. "He makes me happy."  
  
"But….how can….have you thought about…..I mean…….do you……"  
  
"Pick one," she snapped.  
  
"Do you love him?"  
  
"Yes. I think I do," she responded, contemplatively.  
  
"Are you sure? Cause it's just so wrong….."  
  
"Hey! You promised. No Spike bashing."  
  
"Look," he exploded. "We can't discuss us without discussing this….this 'thing' you have going with Spike."  
  
"What 'us'?" Buffy demanded, stopping and turning on Angel with fire in her eye. "There hasn't been an 'us' in several years. Did you think you would come here and we'd just turn back time?" You left ME, remember? You TOLD me to move on."  
  
"I know," Angel's tone was placating. "And I tried to do the same. There are other relationships in my life, too. I've had….feelings for other women. I won't deny it. But, Buffy, the moment I found myself alive again you're the first person I thought of – the first person I wanted to see."  
  
"Well you've seen me," she replied shortly, then softened, "And I'm glad you came, but you really shouldn't expect anything from me."  
  
Angel, feeling desperate, tried again. He held her hand in his and stroked her cheek gently while looking down into the depths of her eyes, trying to find some hope there. "We had some really, really bad times together. I'd like to give it a try now that I'm whole again and see if we can share some good times. Give me a chance, Buffy. Just give me a little time and we'll see where it leads."  
  
Buffy looked at the beautiful face of the man she had once loved so intensely. She felt his solid warmth as he towered over her, making her feel small and protected as always. She smoothed a hand over his endearingly puckered forehead – always a worrier was Angel. Then she closed her mind to his sudden availability and listened instead to what her heart might have to say on the subject. Strangely enough it said…..nothing. She felt ……nothing. No more than a twinge of regret and nostalgia for the girl she had once been.  
  
Before she even spoke, Angel could see the answer in her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, softly. "I grew up." She shook her head, sadly. "I worshipped you so much….but I really was just a child. Now I've found someone who can be my partner instead of a father-figure. He is everything I need. Do you understand?"  
  
Angel's face hardened. "Buffy. I understand you growing past me and finding someone else. I can accept that. But that fact that it's Spike…..that's impossible to accept."  
  
"He's changed. You don't know. You haven't been here. He's not the same person that he was…"  
  
"He's not a 'person' at all, Buffy! How can you forget that? He's a demon in a human body!"  
  
"I never forget it," she said, coldly. "Never. I know he will never age, and that if he is killed he won't be going anyplace pleasant. But I also believe – no, I KNOW – that if that chip was inactivated tomorrow he would still not kill. He would hold himself in check. He honestly wants to be good."  
  
"You believe that?" Angel sounded astounded at her naivete. "He's actually got you believing that?"  
  
"And," she continued, "I know that he loves me as much as one being can possibly love another. He supports me, but doesn't try to control me. We've always been equals as enemies, friends, lovers, whatever…We belong together."  
  
"Well, you sound like you're trying to convince yourself as much as you are me," Angel commented dryly.  
  
"Think what you want. I know what I feel." She looked around at the park, the waning sunlight, the people starting to go home to their dinners, and back at Angel again. "You know what? This conversation is pointless. I don't need to convince you of anything. You don't really know me at all, not the woman I am now."  
  
She started back in the direction of her home, and Angel walked in stunned silence by her side unable to believe he no longer had access to her heart.  
  
**************  
  
They returned to the Summers' home just after twilight to find it dark and deserted. A note from Dawn was propped on the table: "Went out to eat with Tara and Willow. Spike made dinner, though, and left it out for us, so be sure and eat a lot so he thinks we both had some. Don't know where he's at. Some spooky vampire errand no doubt. See ya later, Dawn."  
  
Buffy's stomach dropped. Spike gone missing with no explanation. This could be bad. He was so volatile when he felt threatened and obviously Angel made him feel as insecure as Linus without his blanket.  
  
"He's probably gone on a bender," Angel read her mind. "I'll go to Willie's and see if I can find him and explain how things stand."  
  
"And I'll check the Bronze and the cemetery," Buffy said. She looked at Angel's kind brown eyes. "Thanks for helping and for understanding. I'm sorry if I was harsh. I didn't mean to be."  
  
"No problem," Angel smiled. "Let's go find your….guy."  
  
**********************  
  
Entering the door of the sleazy dive, Angel found it just as he had remembered it, peopled with the seamy underworld of Sunnydale. He strode to the bar where Willie was pouring drinks.  
  
"Hey, hey. Long time no see, Angel. What's the scene out in L.A.?"  
  
"Just living and working, Willie. Maybe you can help me out. I'm looking for someone."  
  
Willie directed him to a poker game in the back room where he found Spike seated at a table with an assortment of disreputable demons and vamps. Several of them shifted and sniffed the air at the scent of human and eyed the intruder hungrily. Angel made eye contact and beckoned Spike, who promptly ignored him and went back to studying the cards in his hand.  
  
"See you and raise you....." Spike began, pushing a pile of chips toward the pot.  
  
"He folds." Angel interrupted. "We have some business to take care of."  
  
The other players grumbled and Spike stabbed his sire with a dark-eyed glare, but tossed down the cards and rose to leave. "Later, gentlemen." He grabbed his drink and followed Angel to a booth in the bar.  
  
The two sat in silent antipathy, reevaluating their relationship, which had ranged back and forth between family and enemy more times than they could count over the years. Angel ordered up a bottle of Jim Beam and two glasses, pouring the amber liquid out and waiting for Spike to break the silence first. He wasn't surprised when his passionate childe began to rant.  
  
"All right. Just lay it out. I know what you're here for. I've heard the bloody litany before. 'Spike, you're stupid, impulsive, stubborn, careless, showy, arrogant, and violent.' In a hundred years I've never done anything right according to you. And now this, right? The biggest screw up you could imagine. It must be eating you up inside to know I've got your precious Slayer."  
  
Angel sipped his drink, knowing the best way to pressure Spike was with silence.  
  
"Well you're not getting her back if that's what you're thinking. If I have to hire you killed, I'm keeping her," he blustered.  
  
"That would certainly justify her faith in you," Angel remarked coolly. "She said you had changed, but I knew better. You're a killer at heart."  
  
"Here we go. Now you'll start with the 'you're not good enough for her' speech. I'll ruin her life, right? She can never be happy with me cause I can't give her a normal life – no kids, no future."  
  
"You said it, not me."  
  
"None of that matters. One thing you're forgetting, she chooses to be with me. And I, unlike some, will NEVER leave her."  
  
"Now there's an attractive picture, seventy-something Buffy and, oh, here's Spike still looking a youthful thirty. You think she'll like that? Do you think YOU will?"  
  
"We'll make it work. I love her," Spike muttered, downing his glass of whiskey.  
  
Angel leaned forward and refilled it, saying sympathetically, "I know you do. That's the pain of it, isn't it?" He sat back and waited for the alcohol to do his work for him. Breaking down Spike's self-esteem was never much of a challenge. Underneath all the swagger and balls, he was still a sensitive dreamer.  
  
"And she loves me," he added, swirling the liquid around in the glass.  
  
"I'm sure she thinks so," the dark-haired man, brooded over his drink. "She thought she loved me once, too, remember? Sometimes her power as a Slayer makes you forget she's a very young woman."  
  
"Are you saying she doesn't know her own mind? Buffy'd kick your ass if she heard that patronizing tone."  
  
"Do you think she's looking ahead or behaving rationally?" Angel asked reasonably. "You say you love her. When you love someone, sometimes you have to make decisions for them. If you care enough, you do what's in their best interest even when they don't ask you to."  
  
"I could turn her, keep her with me forever," Spike contemplated his options.  
  
"Then you'd lose what you love about her."  
  
The blond vamp reached for the bottle and filled his empty glass again. Angel watched his expressive face as emotions flickered across it, and decided it was time to strike.  
  
"You've made her want you, but you can also make her want you out of her life. You know it would be best for the girl. Why don't you prove to me that Buffy's right – that you have changed. That you're not the same pathetic, destructive, self-centered....."  
  
"All right. I get it. You think I don't know by now when you're playing me?" Spike half-smiled at his sire's blatant manipulation.  
  
Angel laughed and shook his head. "Getting smarter, Spike," he said, approvingly.  
  
"Yeah, I am." The brief smile was extinguished. "I know what you want for yourself and what you want me to do." He paused and Angel patiently let the silence drag out, knowing somehow this moment was critical. "And because, for once, you're right.....I'll do it."  
  
'That's my boy,' Angel thought, smiling inwardly. "I'm sorry," he said aloud, the picture of paternal concern and sympathy.  
  
Spike lifted his head and stared him coldly down. "No you're not."  
  
***************  
  
Buffy woke from a fitful doze at 4 a.m. to the crash of a very drunk vampire staggering into the bedroom and tripping on the edge of the dresser. Angel had informed her by phone earlier in the evening that he had located the errant Spike and that she needn't worry since his sire would be keeping watch over him. The girl was still concerned about his mental state, but had quit waiting up for him at about two o'clock, knowing she had a long workday ahead. Besides, she had faith that Angel would keep him safe.  
  
"Hey, beautiful. Miss me?" He slurred, lurching his way over to the bed and shedding clothes all the way.  
  
"Ssshh. Quiet, Spike. You'll wake Dawn," Buffy cautioned, wrinkling her nose at the alcoholic fumes he exuded. He sagged down on the bed next to her and began roughly fondling her breasts through the thin fabric of her nightshirt. Buffy shifted in irritation at his drunken groping. He leaned over her and plastered his foul tasting mouth on hers in a breath-stealing kiss.  
  
Sexiness was notably absent as he stretched out beside her and began to tug at her underwear with one hand, while getting the other hopelessly tangled in her hair. Buffy hated to put him off, figuring his ego was frail since Angel's arrival, but she was sleepy and he was gross. She gently disengaged his fingers from her hair and clamped her thighs together on his probing left hand.  
  
"Sweetie, I'm not in the mood. Can we just cuddle?" she asked, pressing a hand against his chest to get him away from her face. "I love you," she added, pulling him from between her legs, "But I really need to sleep now, okay?"  
  
"Too tired to play? Or just not with me? I bet you'd spread those hot little thighs for Angel."  
  
"Obnoxious jealousy. Great! Just what I need in the middle of the night." Buffy grabbed him by the shoulders and attempted to make eye contact with him in the dim light of the room. "Look at me. Are you listening? You have no reason to be jealous, but I'm not discussing this with you in the condition you're in. Sleep it off and we'll talk in the morning."  
  
He laid his body full length on top of hers, pinning her against the bed. His hard shaft pressed against her mound and she felt herself beginning to be aroused despite the circumstances. But a bleary-eyed drunk was not what she wanted in her bed or her body, so she exerted all her strength and flung him off onto the floor. A pillow and blanket followed after. "Sleep!" she commanded, and rolled over on her side under the sheet, shivering at the cold and at the confrontation.  
  
On the floor, Spike also curled up on his side and thought his plan was working pretty well so far. It wouldn't take long for her to remember how crude and annoying he could be and why she had never wanted him in her life in the first place. It would be much easier to end the relationship than it had been to grow it.  
  
***************  
  
Buffy dragged herself out of bed the next morning, practically tripping over the body on the floor, gazed stupidly at the clock, realized she was late and spent the next twenty minutes rushing around getting ready and urging Dawn out of bed and out the door. She had several back-to-back aerobics classes to teach and found no time to check in with Spike 'til mid- afternoon. The phone rang and rang but remained unanswered. She wondered if he was still sleeping or if he had taken off somewhere again.  
  
Angel stopped by the Fitness Center to see her before starting back to L.A.  
  
"I'll try to keep in better touch from now on," he promised as they hugged goodbye. "Just remember, if you need anything I'm nearby."  
  
"I know," she smiled. "That works both ways."  
  
"And if things change between you and....." he couldn't bring himself to say the name. "Well, if you start to feel differently, give me a call. I'd love to see you again...to try again."  
  
She just smiled.  
  
Angel got in his car and drove away thinking that at least the seed had been planted, and given the load of shit Spike was about to dump on it, maybe it would take root and grow.  
  
  
  
****************  
  
Buffy arrived home that day to an empty house and another note from Dawn.  
  
"Hey, Buf. Spike gone. I went to work on homework and have dinner at Janice's. Later. D."  
  
Buffy called to check on that fact, then prepared herself a frozen dinner and ate it staring blankly at CNN. What the hell was going on? Spike seemed to be slipping out of her reach, and she hadn't even had the chance for a good, long talk with him yet. Why did he have to be so much trouble!  
  
She threw the half-eaten dinner away, wrote both Spike and Dawn hasty notes, then set off, ostensibly to patrol, but mostly to look for her runaway boyfriend. In the cemetery she encountered three teen-age vamps who suffered the brunt of her frustration. She staked them in record time without breaking a sweat. The rest of the evening was a washout as she wandered in and out of the various dives Spike frequented and found him nowhere.  
  
Walking up the sidewalk to her house, Buffy was met by a solid wall of thumping heavy metal, and the slender figure of her sister, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees on the top step. The girl looked like she was on the verge of crying, and her face brightened when she saw Buffy.  
  
"What's up?" the older sister asked, dreading the answer.  
  
"Oh, Spike's got some friends over. They're having a poker game and a lot of booze." Dawn tried to sound casual, but it was obvious she was uncomfortable with the situation. "They kind of took over the house so I came out here for awhile."  
  
Buffy took her sister's cold hand and decided it must have been a long while. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got home," she apologized.  
  
"Really, Buffy, no big. I'm kinda old for you to worry about so much. I can be here on my own for a couple of hours in the evening.....and Spike was here. It's just that.....so were all his buddies and they're noisy and make me a little nervous. Like a 'she-might-be-a-good-midnight-snack' type of nervous."  
  
Buffy's mouth set in a grim line as she told Dawn to wait on the porch and marched inside to roust the demonic playgroup her live-in lover had allowed into her home. Through the window, Dawn heard shouts of anger and recrimination volley back and forth while the guests trooped out the door and past her one by one. She wondered what had happened between her sister and Spike to bring about this sudden bizarre shift in his behavior.  
  
"As usual, something's up and no one bothers to share it with me," she grumbled, rolling her eyes at the stormy couple still battling in the kitchen, as she climbed the stairs to her room.  
  
After that, things went pretty much from bad to worse in Spike's campaign of separation. He came and went at random, cigarette smoke billowed through the house, beer cans littered the tabletops, meal preparation was non-existent, and he rarely spoke to either of the girls except for sarcastic comments. When he crashed there at all, it was on the living room sofa. It would've been a convincing act if it hadn't dated from the day of Angel's visit.  
  
Buffy knew his behavior was tied into the sudden reappearance of his sire. She pressed him again and again to talk with her about it, but Spike remained sulky and removed. She even planned a special romantic evening alone with him, but he pulled a no-show, leaving her gazing at congealed gravy while the candles burned down to stubs.  
  
"I don't know what else to do," she tearfully complained to Willow the next day. "I've tried talking. I've tried being silent. God knows I've tried to physically seduce him. But nothing I do is reaching through this….this barrier he's thrown up."  
  
"It sounds like he's trying to force you to end it so he doesn't have to," her friend said, thoughtfully.  
  
"But why, Willow? Why? That's what I can't piece together. I know he's hurting but he won't talk to me. Or I could be wrong. Maybe he's just bored with me. Maybe he's found someone else."  
  
Willow shook her head. "No, Buffy. Spike may be a lot of bad things but, where you're concerned, unfaithful isn't one of them. I don't think I've ever met anyone more loyal in my life. There's something else going on here."  
  
*****************  
  
The phone rang the next evening, jarring the strained silence of the room where Buffy and Spike sat staring at the TV and Dawn worked on her homework.  
  
"I'll get it." The teenager jumped up and grabbed the phone. "Hey Janice! Oh....sorry. Yeah, she's here. Buffy, it's some guy."  
  
"Telemarketer? Hang up."  
  
"Nope. He asked for you by name. Sounds like a real person."  
  
"Oh," Buffy got up and took the phone. "Hello? (pause) Angel?" She felt Spike's eyes skewering her back, but when she turned to look he was still gazing blankly at the TV. "Uh, I'm fine. And you? How's being human working for you?"  
  
Dawn's ears pricked with interest. She pretended to study her history text but listened intently to the one-sided conversation. Finally, some of the mysterious tension around here was going to be explained.  
  
"Yeah......... Uh-huh.......... I can imagine." Dawn noticed that her sister kept shooting glances at Spike as she talked. "Um, look Angel. Spike's here. You wanna talk to him, too?"  
  
The blond vampire picked his cigarette up from the jar lid he was using as an ashtray, took a long drag, then stood up and left the room.  
  
"Or not. I guess he just left," Buffy continued. "It's really nice hearing from you again…so soon….but I was just about to leave to…..patrol. Talk to you later, 'kay? Yeah. Uh-huh. Love you too. Bye."  
  
She hung up the phone and started toward the stairs to follow Spike, then stopped indecisively.  
  
"Oh fuck it! He's going to have to get over this by himself." Dawn's eyes widened at the seldom-used cuss word. Buffy turned to her, "Dawnie, want to go patrol with me?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure!" Dawn slammed her book closed and leaped up to follow her sister's already retreating back, astounded by this unusual offer. Maybe some sister share-time was actually going to take place.  
  
Out on the front porch, the petite Slayer took some deep draughts of fresh air, trying to clear her head. Dawn held back slightly, waiting to hear whatever Buffy was finally ready to tell.  
  
"Walk with me," her big sister led the way, spilling the heartache of the last week onto willing ears. They walked for almost an hour, Dawn biting her tongue every time she felt compelled to interrupt her sister's monologue, and sticking to "Mm-hm." and "Oh." at appropriate junctures. But finally the impulsive girl couldn't take it anymore.  
  
"Buffy. Are you blind as well as stupid?"  
  
"Whaa-at?"  
  
"He's acting out. Like some big little kid. Don't you take psychology? It's a play for your attention. He's just jealous."  
  
"I don't think it's that simple, Dawn. I told you I've tried…and TRIED to explain that Angel's becoming human doesn't affect us. That he's safe in loving me. But he's not hearing it. He's totally tuning me out."  
  
"Well, you'll just have to talk louder then," Dawn said. "Look, we're almost to Willow's apartment. I'll stop in for a visit. You go home and fix things. Do whatever it takes, but don't let him go until he explodes at you and gets it all out. Rage can be very healthy at a time like this. Now go!"  
  
**********************  
  
Spike stuffed his clothes haphazardly in his duffel. Black T-shirts, black jeans, red shirt, and little else. He left behind some multi-colored shirts and sweaters Buffy had insisted on buying him during his stay here. He would leave as he came, with only that which belonged to him, with only himself.  
  
"What are you doing?" Buffy's acid-tinged voice flayed him, but he betrayed no surprise at her sudden appearance in the doorway – no emotion at all.  
  
"What's it look like?"  
  
"It looks like you're an idiot, who doesn't know a good thing when he has it." She took a step into the room.  
  
"Just makin' way for the inevitable," he said, evenly.  
  
"That being....?" She had folded her arms across her chest and was practically blocking his exit from the room. Great. Now he would have to push past her. Acknowledge her. When all he had meant to do was sneak away and avoid a confrontation.  
  
He shouldered his bag and turned toward her. One brief glance at her eyes caused his gaze to drop. Her beauty was too painful.  
  
"Would you please move out of the way?" he asked.  
  
She strode toward him and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, forcing herself into his line of sight. "What are you doing, Spike? No one's asking you to leave."  
  
He shook his head, unable to speak and still refusing to meet her eyes.  
  
"Is this about Angel?" she asked.  
  
"No! ..... No. It's just time. I don't belong here. We've been playing' house and it's been real nice, but the game's over. I'm done playin'."  
  
Buffy was silent for a moment, stung by his words. She moved aside and he began to walk past. But the sight of his back striding away from her, walking out of her life, snapped her out of hurt and into anger.  
  
"Stop!" she yelled. "This is not happening to me again. I refuse! You are NOT going to leave me!"  
  
He halted in the doorway, facing away from her but listening.  
  
"You are part of a family now, Spike. You can't just leave when you get bored. Dawn and I took you into our home, into our hearts. You owe us something." Her voice choked with tears. "How could you go.....?"  
  
"I don't...." he began. He straightened his shoulders and roughened his tone. "Look. You're right. I do owe you somethin' and that's why I'm clearin' out. Told you once I'd do anythin' for you, and right now it has to be this."  
  
He walked out and Buffy stood trying to process the words. She listened to his steps on the stairs (do anything for you) and the slam of the front door (that's why I'm clearing out), when suddenly the meaning hit. He was trying to be noble, to give her a better life - with Angel. Spike was being a gentleman.  
  
How twisted!  
  
How adorable!  
  
And dangerous – he could be very stubborn.  
  
"WAIT!!!!!" she shrieked. Buffy launched herself over the banister and down to the first floor in one Slayer-leap, then tore out the door after him. Halfway down the block she could see his platinum hair illuminated by moonlight, the rest of his dark-clad figure blended into the shadows. "Spike! Stop!" She pelted down the sidewalk, feeling as though she were running in a dream; seeing his head turn toward her voice, hurling her body on him, knocking the duffle from his shoulder, and bearing him down with a thump.  
  
She straddled him and pinned his shoulders to the ground. "You're not leaving." Her eyes impaled him.  
  
"Buffy...."  
  
No. Hear me out," she demanded. "I know you think you're making this great sacrifice for me, you even tried to make the break easier by being an obnoxious jerk all week, and I appreciate that it's probably the most completely selfless act you've ever done. But....don't do me any favors! I don't want it!"  
  
"Buffy....."  
  
"Are you still listening? Cause I'm not done talking. Now read my lips: I don't want Angel – even a human Angel. I want you. I choose YOU."  
  
Spike struggled to sit up but she exerted more strength and forced him back down. He sighed and tried to interrupt, "You're not thinkin' straight, luv. You're not lookin' ahead..."  
  
"Oh, come off it. Since when has the 'Big Bad' ever worried about planning ahead? You're the one who pursued me, and pestered me, and forced your love on me. You were determined to have your own way and now you've got it. I'm yours, so you'll just have to deal. You're stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."  
  
"It's not right...." he tried again.  
  
She covered his mouth with hers and he shut right up. Then she pulled back and looked at him with cool green eyes. "You're right. We're an abomination. An impossible couple. Feel better now?"  
  
"Not really," he paused to see if she was going to let him talk now. "I'm just tryin' to do the right thing for once," he explained. "The right thing for you instead of me."  
  
"I know," Buffy said softly. "It's a beautiful gesture, but, like I said, I don't want it. I just want you." She caressed his cheek. "Now.....will you stay?"  
  
A slow grin lit up his face. "Well, when you put it like that....." He pulled her down for a long deep kiss, cradling the back of her head with one hand and stroking the small of her back with the other. He broke away to murmur against her ear, "....I'm not THAT noble. Besides, I'm not an idiot and I DO know a good thing when I have it."  
  
END 


End file.
